Dance with the Mommy and hear the Mommy
What she likes of things and all manner of
And God you like the same things, so dance with
And hear the baby say.
Remember when all of it was her
The whole thing turned on her breasts'
milk and this
Slip of a girl in the middle of the night
lifting the baby
To hear him burp,
And you have touched this girl's breasts,
Fingers in the purling millrace of stars and
Dripping in rings melodious as the little
Laughing in his sleep.
Likewise the night when you woke at a
The tired girl was asleep her breasts
And the infant had risen up, had risen up and
Talking to her,
Was leaning up his fingers playing with her
Until he saw you looking and fell back to her
And you understood his melodious
Copyright © 1993 by Kenneth
back to the Short Story Page.
The Galactogogue, 1 March 1999